Like Trying to Touch a Star
by Martiangirl
Summary: It's the Martian Queen's wedding. Only this time, Marvin's not at all happy about it. Sorry, not exactly a new story. Just one I had posted before and had forgotten about. K just to be safe.


**Disclaimer: **Warner Bros. owns everything. I own nothing. I'm making no money off of this. . .blah blah you know the drill.

"What? Another wedding fic?" Yeah, sorry. This is an older fic I had posted on deviantart for the longest time. I had always planned on putting it up here as well, but I never got around to it. Slightly altered (for those who read it before, you can barely tell any difference) since then. I really think this should be rated G except for like one vague sentence or two which could get me in trouble. Better safe than banned, right?

Summary: It's the Martian Queen's wedding. . .only Marvin isn't too happy about it.

** Like Trying to Touch a Star**

I don't plan on anyone reading this. I just need to get my thoughts down. I don't know why I put myself through this. Heaven knows obsession like this isn't healthy. But I think it must have been a trait ingrained into me at an early age. Mother always said that I had a tendency to adore things that were bad for me, everything from sweets to that little neighbor girl who lived next door to us who, last I heard, is now serving a life sentence. But as I stated earlier, I can't help it.

Everyday I seem to take simultaneous trips between heaven and hell. Enduring agonizing torment and tasting sweet bliss. Blest to be able to stand in your presence everyday, and yet too much of a coward to demonstrate my devotion or accept the futility of my captivation and move on with my life. I know this sounds overly sentimental and the other commanders would have a field day if they knew that one of their comrades was a slave to something as disgraceful as love. After all, military men are supposed to be separate from emotions while on duty. And besides anger or annoyance, most Martians don't willingly express such compromising sensitivities like that except to those who they are most close to. I suppose it is that cultural trait that stereotypes Martians as incapable of feeling.

But we _are _feeling creatures, despite what the ignorant may think, perhaps even more so than most other species. Believe me, sometimes I would give anything if I could just be live devoid of emotion. At least then I wouldn't have to endure the stinging pain that's in my heart day in and day out. Seeing you so close to my proximity, and yet knowing that I'll never be able to obtain you.

Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. No matter how much I searched or dated, everyone else paled next to you. No one could compare to you in my mind. So strong, so commanding, sharp, quick and decisive. Graceful and lovely as well. Absolutely stunning. Like the fabled _Ferocious octogerious_. Beautiful to look at from afar but deadly to cross. The epitome of Mars herself.

You could have had anyone in the galaxy, had you so wished. Thousands of men would have thrown themselves at your feet. Why would you ever spare a glance toward an insignificant specimen as myself? Small and weak as an elementary school boy. I know what the centurions and the other commanders call me when they think I'm not in hearing range. I'm a freak in my own culture. What could I possibly have given you that your limitless amount of admirers didn't already offer?

So I tried to prove my worthiness in your eyes. Whatever mission you gave me, I attacked it head-on, always hoping to be a success for you. I so wanted you to be proud of me, to look over in my direction and see more than just another drone to do your bidding. Perhaps with time and patience, I could have been. Maybe with enough diligence I could have earned a drop of your admiration.

Then _he _showed up. I can't even bear to say his name without being bombarded with all the horrible memories I associate with him. Soaring out from another world, he managed to convince everyone he was a gift from the gods. Even _I _believed his bluffs for a little while before I realized the truth. He was merely a lazy arrogant idiot whose success laid in his inconceivable luck and the hard work of his underling. The truth neither helped nor consoled me. Whether he succeeded through accident or if some divine being decided to personally guide him through each of his adventures, the result was the same. The fact that skill and brilliance were absent just made my defeats more unacceptable. Rubbing salt in the proverbial wound one might say. I guess that old saying from Earth is true "It's better to be lucky than smart."

As time passed, I could slowly feel myself slipping from your eye, as your attention turned to your new shining raven-feathered knight. I tried everything I could think of to get back in your graces. You were beginning to see me less and less as a person that could get something accomplished, and more as a klutz who failed in his every endeavor. Every plan I proposed, you received with an air of boredom and scepticism, as though secretly estimating how much time it would take me before I would end up dragging myself back in utter defeat once more. It got so excruciating, I actually ended up sabotaging one of my own plots just to prove to you that I could be right about something. Not one of my better moments as I'm sure you know.

I don't know how naive I must have been to not have seen it. When you announced to the world and to me that Dodgers would be your new consort, I honestly didn't see it coming. You must believe me when I state that my reaction wasn't all just out of jealousy, though I must admit that it had some part. I couldn't stand watching you embrace and exchange poetic words of romance like two young lovers reunited.

But he didn't love you. Not like I did. That duck only loved one person, and he could find him quite easily in a mirror. He was only lured to you by the promise of a new position of power and wealth. After all, from what I heard later on, that's what you told him in the beginning.

As he proceeded through each challenge, I found myself thinking. What would your lives be like in one year, or five or ten? Would you have kids? By the gods, I hoped not! If he didn't run off on you, I could just imagine him lazing about the palace, as he most certainly does on his ship, and taking complete advantage of you and your love. Never paying you a thought of recognition unless it was convenient and benefitted him. I couldn't allow that. You deserved far better. So, for both our sakes, I drove him away.

And for a while I regretted it. As I saw you everyday, your blue eyes so wide and mournful as one who suffers the pain of rejected and unrequited love. Yes, I knew what that was like, and I meant it when I said that I felt your pain. And though I was a constant presence at your side during your hardship and was there to help you channel your eventual anger, he still managed to have a hold on you.

I could tell at that talent contest. When he sang on stage, I glanced over at your seat and saw that same captivated look in your eye that you beheld so long ago. How you sighed in enchantment as he mesmerized you and rest of the female audience with his crooning. I sometimes wonder if he won that contest legitimately, as I cannot believe that someone with his annoying voice and lisp would possess such velvet pipes. I still say you should have won.

That day I saw a side of you I never knew of. That enchanting voice that could mold such a coarse ditty into such a gem. Though I would have had to have been blind not to see the more. . .seductive aspect of your act. You displayed to the audience what kind of woman you were behind your veil of an ambitious and ruthless ruler.

So sensual and fascinating. So _passionate_! I doubt there was anyone present who wasn't enamored by your presence. You electrified us all. While the rest of those uncultivated barbarians were whistling and calling out to you as though you were some common showgirl, I stood gaping from backstage, silent and shameful, trying desperately to keep tight control over may baser instincts. Those temptress eyes and luscious curves. . .I felt my blood racing through me. Are you aware that you have the ability to turn men into whimpering sighing piles of goo? I'm sure you knew, or if not, you certainly found out that night. I'm a man after all, I have aches and desires. . .and, I'm a bit abashed to mention, urges. For a moment, I was a hormonal teenager one more, imagining that you were singing just for me.

You don't know this, but I have often fantasized about what it would be like to be your husband. In my dreams, Earth and Mars are at peace. . .for keeps this time. I forget who won, but it doesn't matter. There is no crisis to solve and all the citizens are content and we can just spend our days together. Or perhaps we weren't living at the palace at all. Sometimes we were just simple civilians. We might have owned a produce stand or a bakery or something. Sometimes we had children. Little laughing tykes with your sapphire eyes and marshmallow hair. Other times we were newly weds, fresh from the temple and free to explore the possibilities of life. Sunsets on a beach, moonlit dances, warmth and chocolate on holidays. The things that starry-eyed Pisceans dream of and gushy romance novels are composed of.

I'll admit it, I have also occasionally imagined us experiencing physical love. I always thought that it would be. . . slow. . . and tentative, as we explored each other bodies, careful not to harm each other, wanting each other to experience unadulterated pleasure. There was a lot of chaste kissing, softness, and unsureness. None of that sweaty vulgar filth that people seem to enjoy reading of and watching all the time. Just us. No audience. No standards or expectations. Fully enjoying each other's company and devotion.

By now you must think me either an obsessive pervert or a pathetic delusional little man. It no longer matters what I think about all this. This pattern has continued for years so far with little gain. It wasn't until recently that I finally realized that I was finished.

I remember once hearing a quote from an Earth actor from centuries ago, a young Jaleel White. He said "Loving you is like trying to touch a star. You know you'll never reach it, but you have to keep trying." Well, I think right at this time, I'm getting rather tired of stretching my grasp toward something I can't possibly reach. You'll always have a hold on my soul and I doubt it'll ever fade.

In the meantime, it is your wedding day, so I'll be praying that the rest of your years are memorable ones. I regret to inform you that I won't be able to attend the rest of today's festivities. I shall no longer disturb you with my inadequacies, as I humbly give in my resignation in order to try and regain some semblance of control over my life.

And though I doubt you'll ever read this, if you do happen to stumble over this, please note that I bear no bitterness toward you. I'm sure Dodgers will take pride in knowing that he's won yet again. If you see his cadet at the reception, please tell him he's earned my respect as well. I would be most appreciative. But most importantly, be happy in your new life. You can take pride knowing that your union might finally bring an end to the strife that's been between Earth and Mars for too long.

Live long and blessed. Experience each day and make sure that neither you nor your husband ever take each other for granted. I wish you both well on your new journey in life. At least one of us could have our fantasies come true.

Sincerely Yours,  
Your obedient servant,  
_Marvin Martian,  
Commander X-2_

Marvin glanced over the letter he had written the previous night. He had written it originally for emotional therapy in dealing with the unexpected news that Dodgers had actually decided to accept Queen Tyr'ahnee's latest proposal. Toward the end, he seriously considered sending it to her. . .or someone, for closure, if nothing else. It exposed some of his deepest feelings, thoughts he told no one, even had they been willing to listen. And for what? It would change nothing. She might end up pitying him, and he would have none of that. It was a humiliation, he couldn't bear.

He crumpled the piece of paper in his hand and flung it to the ground. The maintenance droids were sure to zone in on it eventually and disintegrate it with the rest of the refuse. No one, save himself, would ever see it or know if its existence.

He glanced over toward the altar where his queen and Dodgers were sharing their first kiss as a couple. A brief flash crossed his vision as he remembered just how close he had been to being in Dodger's place. Marvin turned away behind a pillar before he made a scene as tears began to well up in his eyes. He swiped at them angrily. There was nothing to be done. He headed toward the side temple door, cruelly smashing the flower petals that raining down in celebration into the carpet. No one noticed his early exit as he wondered into the blinding sunlight. He just managed to lose himself into the vast sea of the excited crowd as every Martian in the city erupted into cheers at the emerging newlyweds.


End file.
